


AZ Fell and Co. Rare Bookstore and refuge for misfit children

by Penguinpower1101



Series: The Warriors of Eden [1]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Aziraphale Whump (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley adopt all three as their godsons, Everyone's protective of Aziraphale TBH, Gabriel Being an Asshole (Good Omens), Gabriel is the worst, Good Omens Book Timeline, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Not beta'd we fall like Crowley (and Sherlock), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Protective Sherlock Holmes, Young Sherlock spends time at the bookshop, being chased by Hastur, except Gabriel, then Young Dean and Sam show up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24588517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penguinpower1101/pseuds/Penguinpower1101
Summary: It's been three months since the Apoca-Nope. And Aziraphale and Crowley are happy in their lives together. Until, An unusually intelligent young boy with Raven curls and Icy Blue eyes enters the shop one day, searching for books on Psychology in order to figure out what's wrong with him.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: The Warriors of Eden [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1778389
Comments: 21
Kudos: 126





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing.

"Hey Angel," Crowley greeted as he entered the bookshop.  
"Hello my Dear," Aziraphale smiled as he shelved some books, "How was your day?"

"Ngk, not bad," Crowley shrugged, Kissing Aziraphale's cheek, "Missed you though."

"I missed you too," Aziraphale returned the gesture. After The-Not-Quite-End-of-days and A Dramatic Love Confession that would have made the likes of Shakespeare and Jane Austen tear up. The Two had settled easily into a routine.

"been doing some light reading then?" Crowley asked, picking up a copy of *The Principles of Psychology* By William James.

"Oh Goodness No, but I met the most peculiar boy today," Aziraphale explained, "Came in here, looking for any books on Psychology that I had."

"Young kid?" Crowley inquired. he was well aware that Aziraphale had opened up the shop as a sort of resource centre for children in recent weeks. A place where they could read books that their local library didn't have.

"He seemed just a touch older than Adam." Aziraphale replied, "Such Intelligence for his age. He read that whole book in a few short hours before his brother came to pick him up."

"What was his name?"

"I didn't quite catch it. But it was something unusual. might have been Sherringford or something like that."

"Who the Somewhere names their kid Sherringford?" Crowley wondered.

*****

The next week, the Boy returned to the shop.

"I don't suppose you remember me," The Boy said quietly, "Not many people do"

"Of course I remember," Aziraphale smiled, "Books on Psychology, correct?

The Boy nodded, inky black curls bouncing.

"May I ask why you are seeking these books?" Aziraphale asked, getting some books off of a shelf. "You seem a little young.

"I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with me, Mr. Fell" The Boy replied Matter-of-factly. Aziraphale could tell that there was a brilliant young mind behind Icy blue eyes.

"Oh." Aziraphale didn't quite know what to say, "I didn't quite catch your name last time."

"I`m Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes."

"Pleasure to meet you Sherlock."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock deduces the Truth and is proved right in the worst way possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Implied Rape in this Chapter. 
> 
> Also, My personal challenge is to use as many different names for "The Apocalypse that wasn't" as possible. 
> 
> I own Nothing

Months passed and young Sherlock became a regular figure at A.Z Fell and Co. As he got more comfortable, Sherlock's icy exterior began to thaw and Both Aziraphale and Crowley quickly grew accustomed to the Boy's Intelligence and Quick Wit.

One Day, almost a year since Nopeageddon, Sherlock was helping put away the books he'd read when the bell rang and there was a shout.

"Anyone here?" called a voice that sent shivers down Aziraphale's spine 

The Angel froze, "Sherlock, you have to hide." 

Sherlock looked confused, "Why?" 

"Just... trust me, okay? Hide in the back and don't come out till I say it's safe." 

as if he sensed the urgency in Aziraphale's voice. Sherlock did as he was instructed. 

"Hello Aziraphale..." Gabriel sneered, he had that look in his eyes. The look that made Aziraphale's stomach churn. It was clearly going to be one of those visits. 

"Gabriel, Sandalphon" Aziraphale nodded, mustering every ounce of courage in his corporation, "I thought I made it very clear that I was to be left alone." 

Well, Technically, Crowley had made it very clear, for it had been Crowley wearing Aziraphale's body and Vice Versa when the Duo faced their trials. but Gabriel didn't know that, nor did he need to

"Ah yes... about that," Gabriel, clapped his hands together, seeming all too pleased with himself, "You see, we've had some time to think about your little... trangsgression. and although we can't execute you. There are other ways to punish you. as you know."

Aziraphale gulped, No. Please No. Not that... Not while Sherlock was there. The Boy was probably listening to this entire conversation. 

With a snap of Gabriel's fingers, Aziraphale was stripped naked and hanging from the celing by his wrists. The Arch-angel tutted. 

"Aziraphale.... what did I say about losing the gut? Now, Wings!"

Aziraphale manifested his wings and bowed his head in shame. He didn't even notice when Sandalphon manifested a Holy rod until the first strike. 

He prayed Sherlock wasn't watching this, wishing that the Boy had found a interesting book in the back and was fully absorbed in it's pages. Better yet, had taken the back door and run home. 

"You know what you`ve done, don`t you Aziraphale?" Gabriel asked. 

"Yes."

"Well, I think the appropriate punishment should be, sixty lashes for fraternising with the Demon, Crowley. ten for every thousand years. another hundred lashes for preventing Armageddon. and forty lashes for spitting Hellfire at an Arch-angel," Gabriel informed, "Now, I was never very good at numbers. how many lashes is that Aziraphale?"

"T-t-two hundred," Aziraphale stammered.

When Sandalphon had finished all two hundred lashes (And few more for good measure), it was Gabriel's turn. 

And it was so much worse than any beating Sandalphon could give. 

Gabriel was rough and cruel in every way that Crowley was gentle and loving. When he'd had his fun. He snapped his fingers again and Aziraphale hit the floor. his clothes returned. 

As soon as the Arch-Angels had left, Aziraphale curled into a ball and sobbed. he was going to take the world`s longest bath as soon as he had the energy. It had been quite some time since Gabriel had punished him _Like that._

Other times, Aziraphale admitted he deserved the punishment. But.. She had shown no sign of anger at what Aziraphale and Crowley had done. surely, if it had truely been against The Great Plan. 

Aziraphale shuddered. Oh, he stunk of Gabriel now, how was he ever going to explain this to Crowley? 

Surely Crowley would no longer want him. Useless, soft, pathetic excuse of an Angel that he was. 

***

Unbeknownst to the Principality, young Sherlock Holmes had witnessed the entire thing from his hiding place. He'd had his suspicions about Mr. Fell and Mr. Crowley for quite some time. But now, Now everything made sense. Angels and Demons. 

The Boy had no idea that Angels could be so cruel. 

Aziraphale, That was what The Arch-Angel Gabriel had called Mr. Fell 

Aziraphale... Aziraphale... he`d read that somewhere. 

Sherlock searched his impeccable memory and recalled the information. 

Aziraphale... according to scripture. was the Guardian of the eastern gate of the Garden of Eden. 

As soon as he was sure that The Arch-angels had left, Sherlock emerged from his hiding place. 

"Aziraphale?" he said quietly, it seemed odd to call him that. 

Aziraphale let loose a choked sob, and then he seemed to realise who`d spoken to him. 

"Sherlock? How much of that did you..."

"All of it," Sherlock replied, "I know what you are."

Aziraphale could only nod.

Sherlock looked around, by the old, rotary phone on the counter was a little card with Crowley's number on it. 

The boy picked up the phone and dialled the number. 

"`ello Angel," Crowley greeted. 

"Mr. Crowley? It`s Sherlock. I know what you are. You need to come to the shop."

"Sherlock... where`s Zira?" Crowley wasn't surprised that Sherlock figured it out. he was an unusually intelligent kid. 

"some Arch-angels came by. and they hurt him."

"Which ones?" Crowley asked, voice dangerously soft.

"Gabriel and Sandalphon."

Crowley cursed, he`d known deep inside that Gabriel wouldn't leave them alone forever. but he hadn't thought it would be quite so soon after The Apocawhoops 

"Sherlock, I`ll be there in 2 minutes."

***

Crowley burst into the shop precisely one minute and thirty-six seconds after hanging up from Sherlock's Call. (The Boy counted)

Sherlock was kneeling beside an unconcious Aziraphale, pressing a wet cloth to a deep gash. 

"What happened?" Crowley asked, "Tell me everything."

Sherlock told Crowley the whole story of what he`d witnessed. How Sandalphon had given Aziraphale over two-hundred lashes with a holy rod. 

Getting to the part about what Gabriel had done. How he'd raped Aziraphale. Crowley's face went from furious to thundering. 

"That... That.... Slimy, good-for-nothing... absolute... twat!" Crowley exclaimed, trying to find the right words that were appropriate to say in front of a 12 year old boy. Even if that 12 year old boy was of extraordinary intelligence and maturity. 

"Mr. Crowley, what did you and Aziraphale do?" Sherlock asked.

"We... We stopped Armageddon." 

"I see," Sherlock nodded, if he had more questions, he didn't ask them. 

"Sherlock, you should go home..." Crowley said at last, "You can come by again tomorrow."

Sherlock nodded and grabbed his backpack. he stopped when he got to the door, "Mr. Crowley?"

"yeah, Boy Genius?"

"I'll keep your secret." 

"Thanks Kiddo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley cares for his angel and Aziraphale has a vision.

Crowley knelt on the floor of the bookshop, gently cradling Aziraphale in his arms. Stroking soft white curls and whispering reassuances.

“I`ve got you Angel, I`ve got you. I`m here. Not leaving you.”

Inside, the Serpent of Eden was fuming. Not even his ex-lot downstairs raped demons when they disobeyed. And they were DEMONS for Someone’s sake!

And yet, Crowley should have known this would happen eventually. Especially after Gabriel had tried to force himself upon “Aziraphale” before the trial.

Moments after Sherlock had left, Aziraphale had woken with a scream. Then, those familiar blue eyes, so full of kindness and love, had turned milky white and The Angel had slipped into a seemingly catatonic state.

That had been three hours ago. Crowley had closed the shop and hadn’t moved from the floor.

But, his knees were aching, they couldn’t stay on the cold floor till Aziraphale woke up again.

“Come on Angel, let's get you to bed.” Crowley whispered, scooping the love of his life up off of the floor.

Crowley took Aziraphale upstairs to the flat above the shop, a quick miracle made the seldom used bed much more plush and comfortable.

Tucking his Angel in, Crowley knelt beside the bed and prayed.

“I know you hate me,” Crowley began. He hadn’t prayed since Eden. “But I need to ask. Why him? Why do you let the best angel in the whole lot get treated like filth? 6000 years, they treated him like dirt and you did nothing. If you wanted him to hurt, he would have fallen by now. So why let Gabriel do it? Oh right, because he’s bloody Gabriel. Always was your favorite.”

 _“It’s why you let him shove me off a cloud_ ” Crowley thought, but did not put it in his prayer.  
“I don`t know what Gabriel did, but if anybody has the power to give Aziraphale back to me. It’s you. Please. You must have seen how he set me on the right path.”

Not getting an answer, (And he couldn`t honestly say he`d been expecting one) Crowley sighed and slipped into bed beside his Angel. Lanky body curled protectively around him.

“Come back to me Aziraphale,” Crowley whispered as he started to doze off, “Come back Angel.”

****

Aziraphale should have known that Heaven wasn't finished with him. He felt Crowley gently cradling him before the sensation was ripped away. In fact, every sensation was ripped away and Aziraphale found himself in a familiar place.

The Void.

An empty, bright white expanse with no way out. Despite seeming endless, Aziraphale couldn’t even spread his mangled wings if he wanted to.

It was the kind of bright that burns straight through any attempts at shielding your eyes against it. And Aziraphale knew this all too well. He'd been in here before. Countless times over the last 6000 years.

Days seemed to pass, Though Aziraphale couldn’t quite tell exactly how long it had been. Quite frankly, he was too exhausted to keep track of time.  
He was a desprate angel. Desprate for his life back on earth. Desprate for Crowley`s laugh and erratic driving and his bebop music. Desprate for the comforts of the bookshop. The bookshop… something about that stirred a memory. Someone… someone had been there when Gabriel and Sandalphon showed. A.. A boy. Not Adam, slightly older.

 _“Aziraphale?”_  
The name echoed in The angel`s ears and Aziraphale bit back a sob as he remembered that Sherlock had witnessed everything. No boy, no matter how smart, should have to witness what The Arch-Angels had done.

_“I know what you are. Can I help?”_

Oh, Sherlock Holmes. That clever, Clever boy. Just gotten the biggest shock of his young life and all he wanted to do was help. To try and ease the pain. The way Aziraphale had done for him when some bigger kids had pushed him to the ground outside the shop and called him names. A bandaid on a scraped knee and a cup of cocoa had been the perfect tonic for a bullied child.

If only the same were true for an Filthy, pathetic, useless angel.

‘Soft’ that was what Gabriel had called him. And It was true. He wasn’t built like the others. His corporation was tall and muscular. It was short, dumpy. And… well… fat.

Maybe… maybe he was better off here in the Void. Crowley would be alright. He`d been fully prepared to run off to Alpha Centauri before The Apo-can`t-lypse. He could do that now that he didn’t have a Hapless, worthless, wretched being like Aziraphale holding him back.

“Angel? Can you hear me?”

That was Crowley`s voice… Crowley could’nt be here. Surely Hell had their own void.  
Aziraphale made a small noise of acknowledgement, if he wanted to hallucinate anyone, it would be his darling Crowley.

“Hey, come on Aziraphale, come back.”

“Crowley?” Aziraphale called, “where are you my dear?”

“I`m right here Angel,” Crowley replied, but his voice was growing fainter.

“Don`t leave me Crowley!” Aziraphale begged.

“Never leave you Zira, just come back to me…”

Aziraphale blinked, Suddenly he wasn`t in the void anymore. But he wasn’t in his beloved bookshop either. He didn’t know quite where he was. But he was outside a house, An ordinary suburban house. With a family. A father and mother and two young boys. In America, judging by their accents.  
When one of the boys ran straight through aziraphale like he wasn’t there. The Angel realised that this was some kind of vision.

And then, the scene changed. Aziraphale was inside, in the kitchen.  
And what he saw… horrified him.  
The Mother of the family. A kind and beautiful woman. Was on the ceiling. Burning with Hellfire. And Hastur was there, laughing.

“Dean!” The Father yelled, “Take Sam and Run!”

Dean and Sam, so those were the boys’ names.

Unable to witness the mother’s tragic fate any longer. Aziraphale followed the boys. He found them. The older one, Dean clutching his little brother, Sam.

“It’s Alright.” Aziraphale tried to soothe, though he knew that they could not see or hear him, “I’ll keep you safe.”

The Vision faded and Aziraphale was back in the void.

Why? Why did he say that? He couldn’t keep those boys safe. He was a useless, pathetic, soft angel. Absolutely worthless.

He couldn`t even guard an apple tree.

Useless, stupid, broken, filthy excuse of an angel.

The Almighty’s one and only mistake.


	4. Chapter Four.

“GROW BETTER! I WANT THE BEST F***ING PLANTS THIS SIDE OF THE CHANNEL!” Crowley screamed at his plants. He`d been doing that a lot recently. Ever since Gabriel’s little surprise visit, eighteen painful, lonely months ago. Crowley had alternated between tending to Aziraphale and taking his pain out on his houseplants. 

Sherlock had come by the shop a few times in the early months, but the boy hadn't visited in ages. There had been something different about Sherlock last time he’d been. He’d been pale and his eyes had been red. Almost as red as Crowley’s hair. That had been some time ago. Deep down, Crowley knew something was wrong, yet the demon could not bring himself to leave Aziraphale and check on the young genius. 

Crowley was just catching his breath from the scream when he heard a voice call his name. 

“Crowley? Is that you my Dear?”

Crowley whirled around, there, standing at the top of the stairs. Pale and skinny and clutching the bannister as if it was the only thing holding him up, was Aziraphale. 

“Aziraphale…” Crowley gasped, ‘You`re awake!”

Crowley raced up the stairs and wrapped his arms around his angel.   
“Oh thank someone.”

“Crowley… are you... Is… is this real?” Aziraphale asked, a trembling hand running over Crowley’s bony cheek. 

“Yes Angel, I`m real, This is real.” Crowley assured, “come on, let's get you back to bed.”

“Oh Crowley, I’m so sorry.” Aziraphale whimpered, resting his head against his demon’s chest, “can you ever forgive me?” 

“Forgive you for what angel? What that twat Gabriel did was not your fault.” 

“But… I… what happened to me the other day” 

“The Other day?” Crowley gasped, “Aziraphale, It's 1992, you’ve been f#$%ing catatonic for 18 months.” 

“Catatonic? No, Crowley, I was in the void.” 

“The Void?” Crowley asked, “What the F#$% is that?”

“Crowley, surely you know what the void is…” Aziraphale`s brow furrowed, “The bright white space. Seemingly endless but with not enough room to fully spread your wings?”

“Angel, Downstairs doesn`t have even remotley anything like that,” Crowley said, almost at a loss for words, “And upstairs certainly didn’t have it when I was there.” he thought. 

“Surely they must.”

“No, they don`t.” Crowley insisted, “Humans have a term for it though, Solitary confinement.”

“Oh… is… is that what that is.”

“Yeah, Angel, that’s what it is.” Crowley said gently, holding Aziraphale close to him. He was just glad to have his angel back. 

The Two cuddled like that for hours. Both afriad that Aziraphale might get pulled back into the void if Crowley let go.

***

“What would you like for dinner, angel?” Crowley asked that evening as they sat in the back of the shop, trying to regain some semblance of the routine they’d had before Gabriel showed up. 

“I’m not hungry dear,” Aziraphale replied. 

“What? You? Not Hungry?” Crowley gasped in disbelief, “6000 years and I’ve never heard those two words out of your mouth.”

“Well, There’s a first time for everything, as the Humans say.”

“Come on Angel,” Crowley insisted, “We can order Anything you like. Sushi? Crepes? What about that Chinese place that has those Honey-soy noodles you love?”

“No, Thank you Crowley dear, but.. I just don`t feel like eating.”

“Aziraphale, you need to eat something. You’re used to food,” Crowley practically pleaded. His Angel never turned down food. Not ever. Did Gabriel cause this? 

Aziraphale sighed, clearly Crowley wasn’t just going to let this go, “I don’t suppose the little Italian place is open? The one that does the Pasta Carbonara like we had in Rome?”

“One order of Pasta Cabornara, coming right up.” Crowley nodded, glad he’d been able to persuade Aziraphale to eat after all. 

“So, how’s young Sherlock doing?” Aziraphale asked once Crowley had placed the order. 

It was Crowley’s turn to sigh, “He came by a few times after you first passed out. But he hasn`t been around in a while.”

“Oh, that’s… odd.” Aziraphale’s brow furrowed in a way that Crowley could’nt help but find adorable, “I do hope he’s alright.”

“Yeah, me too Angel.” Crowley agreed, flopping down onto the old sofa beside Aziraphale, who reached for the Demon’s hand. 

“Thank you, Crowley. For staying with me.”

“Angel, there is nowhere else in the universe I’d rather be,” Crowley pulled Aziraphale close again, “I love you Aziraphale, and I will never leave you. Ever. you hear me?”

“Loud and clear Crowley,” Aziraphale nodded, a twinge of a smile on his face, “and I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale's awake! YAY!!!! *Throws confetti*
> 
> Thoughts?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING COARSE LANGUAGE AND REFERENCED RAPE/ABUSE*
> 
> The Duo make a surprising discovery and Crowley finds out some unsettling truths about his Angel's time upstairs.

Time passed and Aziraphale slowly started to heal. Crowley started looking into the possibility of the two of them moving. Somewhere neither Heaven nor Hell had been before. Somewhere he could make sure that Gabriel would never get his filthy paws on Aziraphale ever again. 

One night, two weeks after Aziraphale got out of the Void, Crowley smelled it. Something… rather, Someone he’d hoped he’d never smell again. 

Hastur. 

What was Hastur doing in Soho? So incredibly close to the bookshop?

On Second thought, Crowley didn’t really need an answer to that question. He had Toad ass to kick. 

“Crowley dear, where are you going?” Aziraphale asked as Crowley stormed out of the bookshop. 

“Stay there Angel, I’ll be back soon.” Crowley replied, and with that, he left the shop, slamming the door behind him. 

Concerned, Aziraphale made a move to follow his beloved demon. As he did, he heard a voice. 

“Please, you have to save them.”

That voice. Aziraphale knew that voice. He’d heard it somewhere before. 

Then he remembered, He’d heard it in his vision. Looking around, Aziraphale noticed that, in his haste to leave, Crowley had shifted the rug. Revealing the summoning circle. And hovering above the rug, was the spectral form of a woman, a spirit. 

“Please,” The Woman begged, “You’re the only one who can protect them. You have to save my boys.”

“Who are you?” Aziraphale asked. 

“I’m Mary Winchester.”

“Aziraphale.”

“I know. The rebel Principalty who didn’t fall. I know all about you and what you did to stop armageddon. That’s why I had to find you. You and Crowley are the only ones who can keep my boys safe.” Mary explained, she was fading fast. 

“I will, I promise.”

“Tell them I love them.”

Aziraphale nodded as Mary faded away. Hurrying, The Angel went to a chest in the back of the shop and retrieved his sword, which began to flame as soon as he grasped it. 

Nodding, Aziraphale hurried to follow Crowley, He’d made a promise, and by Someone, he was going to keep it. 

***

Meanwhile, Crowley hurried through the streets of Soho, chasing Hastur’s scent. He wasn`t going to let the duke of hell anywhere near Aziraphale. 

“Get away from my brother, Frog-face!” called a voice. A young boy. American by the sounds of it. And Frog-face could only be Hastur. Crowley ran towards the sound of the Boy’s voice. Kids were involved, Now Hastur had crossed a line. 

“Don’t be afriad of me kids, I`m an old friend of your mum’s.” Said Hastur. 

“Mom would never have been friends with someone as ugly as you.” The Boy retorted. Crowley suppressed a chuckle. The Kid had spirit, he liked that. 

“Back… Off…” Crowley said through gritted teeth as he approached Hastur from behind, “Frog-face.” he echoed the boy’s insult.

The Serpent of Eden could now assess the situation. Two boys. The Bigger one looked around 10 and the smaller one couldn’t be much older than 6. The older one was sheltering his brother, standing protectively between the young boy and the Duke of Hell. 

Hastur turned, a vile sneer came over his face, “Well, Well, Well. If it isn’t the Traitor, Crawly.”

“Hastur,” Crowley nodded, “As hideous as ever I see.”

“Get Lost Crawly, This is Hell’s Buisness, and last I checked, You don`t work for us anymore.”

“Best decision I ever made,” Crowley smirked, “oh by the way, Remember this?” he asked, pulling his garden mister from his pocket.

Hastur gulped, He hadn’t believed that the Spray bottle was filled with Holy water when a Drop had landed on Crowley’s skin. That was until, not even 48 hours later, he’d witnessed the same demon bathing in an entire bathtub of the stuff like it was nothing. A-hole even had the nerve to ask for a Rubber Duck. (Whatever that was)   
Terrified, Hastur knocked the spray bottle from Crowley’s hand, where it broke open and spilled on the ground. 

“F#@*” Crowley said, immediately kicking himself for cussing in front of kids.   
It never mattered with Warlock, since he was meant to grow up to be the antichrist. but now, Crowley had been trying and failing to curb the profanity when around children. 

“Got any other cheap tricks crawly?” Hastur asked, confidence renewed. 

“He doesn’t, but I do.” 

Crowley turned around and saw Aziraphale, wielding that familiar flaming sword. 

“What are you doing here angel?” He asked 

“Not now my dear,” Aziraphale replied, stepping past Crowley with only a slight limp and pointing the flaming sword at Hastur’s throat “be gone foul fiend.”

“Like I’m afraid of Gabriel’s pet slut.” Hastur smirked. 

“What?” Crowley exclaimed as Aziraphale’s face fell. 

“Didn’t you know Crawly? The angel of the eastern gate’s got quite a reputation for being good in the sack. “The archangel’s whore” is what we call him downstairs.”

Tears welled in Aziraphale’s blue eyes. Surely Crowley would leave him now, now that he knew the truth of what happened most of the times they DIDN'T see each other over the last 6000 years. 

“Angel… is this true?” Crowley asked, he didn’t need a reply, he could tell the answer just by the look on Aziraphale’s face. It was in that moment that Crowley made up his mind. If he ever saw Gabriel or the other arse-angels ever again, they wouldn’t make it out alive. 

***

While the three immortal beings had been fighting, The older boy made a move. He picked up the spray bottle and, seeing that it still had some water in it, threw it at Hastur's head as hard as he could. 

The Duke of hell Screeched as the water splashed over him, the spray bottle following seconds later with a hollow-sounding Bonk! He disappeared with a shadowy puff. 

"Nice throw kid," Crowley smiled, "You boys ok?"

"Thanks to you," The boy said, then he looked at Aziraphale, "Are you really an angel?"

Aziraphale nodded, "Yes, Your mother sent me to keep you safe. She loves you very much."

Somehow, The boy knew that this time, when his mother was mentioned, it was the truth. 

"What's your name kid?" Crowley asked.

"I'm Dean Winchester, this is my little brother, Sam."

"You got a grown-up around here somewhere?" Crowley asked, "Dad maybe?" 

Dean shook his head, "Dad went to fight some monsters last year, it's been me and Sam ever since."

"Do you have a place to go?" Aziraphale asked. 

again Dean shook his head, "But I can take care of us."

"Dean," Crowley said, kneeling to the boy's eye level, "That wasn't really Holy Water in that bottle. Hastur will be back. With Reinforcements next time."

"But, Mr Crawly, can't you get them to leave us alone? aren't you a demon too?" Dean asked.

"It’s Crowley, and Yeah I am, But you heard Frog-face, I don't work for them anymore."

"Then you're with the Angels?"

"F*** No." Crowley shook his head, "Aziraphale and I are on our own side. Look it's a long story."

"I believe what Crowley is trying to say is, would you like to stay with us?" Aziraphale asked, " At least until we figure something out so Hastur will leave you alone."

Dean looked to Sam, who was shivering in the cool night air and bleeding from scraped knees where he'd tripped.  
"Ok, fine."


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchester boys tell their story and Aziraphale overdoes it on the Miracles. 
> 
> Alternatively: Aziraphale has 99 problems and Gabriel is most of them.

Returning to the Bookshop, Crowley was really… REALLY confused. HOW did Aziraphale know the mum of these boys? And WHEN had he been tasked by her to keep them safe? 

“Would you boys like some Cocoa?” Aziraphale asked as he settled Dean and Sam on the sofa at the back of the shop. He’d miracled them into some warm Pyjamas, Tartan, of course, and tucked a thick blanket around Sam’s shoulders. 

“Yes, please,” Sam said quietly, it was the first time that the smaller boy had spoken. 

“Sit tight small-fry,” Crowley smiled, ruffling Sam’s hair, “I’ll get some stuff to patch up those knees.”

They didn’t have a mortal first aid kit, but there was one waiting in the kitchen because Crowley expected there to be one. As he sauntered to get it, he had a minute to chat with Aziraphale. 

“What in Hell’s name is going on angel?” Crowley asked in a harried whisper, “Who the heaven are those kids?”

“I`m not entirely sure,” Aziraphale replied, “But I had a… a vision while in the void. Hastur killed their mother.”

Crowley lowered his sunglasses and his yellow, serpentine eyes went wide, “he WHAT?” 

Aziraphale shushed him, “It must have been some years ago, Sam was just a baby in my vision. and I… I spoke their mother’s spirit tonight. I promised that I’d keep them safe.”

Before Crowley could reply, The colour drained from Aziraphale’s face and he nearly toppled over. 

“Angel!” Crowley gasped, catching him before he hit the ground. 

“I’m… I’m alright dear, just a little bit dizzy.”

“That is because you’ve over-exerted yourself. You’re still healing. Don`t think for a second that I can’t tell how much of your power it takes for that stinkin sword of yours to flame”  
  


“I know,” Aziraphale nodded sadly, regaining his balance, “I’ll try not to do it anymore.”

Slinging the first aid kit over his arm, Crowley kept a firm hand on Aziraphale as the angel carried two mugs of cocoa back to where the boys were waiting. 

“Here we go kids,” Aziraphale smiled, “this’ll get you both warmed up. You’ll be tickety-boo in no time.”

Crowley made a face at the return of the angel’s favourite phrase. 

“Thank you,” Sam smiled as the brothers each picked up a mug of cocoa, “May I have some marshmallows?” 

“Of course,” Aziraphale smiled, “Would you like some too Dean?” 

“Yes Please,” Dean nodded. 

Aziraphale smiled as Three large fluffy marshmallows appeared in each boy’s mug. 

“So, how did you end up in Soho of all places?” Crowley asked as he opened the first aid kit and started cleaning Sam’s scraped knees. 

He hadn’t done anything like it since Warlock, but he still remembered exactly what to do. 

“Dad brought us to England with him. He’s a Hunter of the Supernatural,” Dean explained, “we went to a place called Tadfield because he’d heard reports of supernatural activity there starting a couple of years ago.”

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged glances. They knew Tadfield all too well, The small town having provided the backdrop for Ragnar-ok-never-mind.

“Dad left Sam and I in a hotel one night, but he never came back. And then…” Dean trailed off, and looked down at his cocoa.

“It’s alright Kiddo,” Crowley said, “Nothing you say is gonna get you in trouble.” 

“This… This Crazy Chick showed up. I think… I think she was a demon too. Sam and I just grabbed our backpacks and ran.”

“What did she look like?” Aziraphale asked, wondering why the forces of hell were after these kids. There were many “Supernatural hunters” among humans. The profession seemed to be the Modern Day witch-finder. Very few, if any, were actually credible. Mary and her husband must have had a very big encounter for their young sons to become targets. 

“She was… I don`t know.. I honestly didn’t get a good look.” Dean sighed, taking a sip of his drink. It was warm, and the chocolate flavor was rich and sweet. In short, the most incredible Cocoa that the boy had ever tasted. 

“She had a giant fly on her head,” Sam piped up, “and her voice buzzed like an insect.”

“That would be Beelzebub,” Crowley nodded as he finished bandaging Sam’s knees, “They’re the Prince of Hell, You kids are lucky to have lasted this long.”

Sometime Later, Aziraphale and Crowley led the boys to the small flat above the shop and to The Previously Non-existent Spare Bedroom. 

Inside were two single beds with Tartan duvets, Noticing the pattern, Crowley glanced at Aziraphale, who was trying to conceal an obvious tremor in his hands. 

_Bloody Stubborn Angel_ he thought.

Sam was already falling asleep as Dean tucked his little brother in. The older boy sat on the edge of his bed and looked at Aziraphale and Crowley, “Thank you,” he said, “I try to act brave, for Sammy, but I was so scared when Hastur showed up.”

“I know, He scares me too,” Crowley gave Dean a smile, “It’s alright to admit when you’re afraid. It’s what you do with that fear that counts.” 

“Will you help us find our Dad?” 

“Of Course we will,” Aziraphale smiled.

“Aziraphale, we gotta talk,” Crowley whispered as he softly closed the door to the spare room and used a quick miracle so that the boys wouldn’t hear the conversation. “Their Dad might not be there to be found.”

“Whatever do you mean dear?” 

“Do you know what my Ex-lot does to Supernatural hunters?” Crowley asked, following Aziraphale into their bedroom, “It aint pretty, Angel. You said it yourself, Hastur killed their mum, who’s to say he hasn’t got their dad too.”

“We have to try Crowley, what other option is there?”

“I dunno, they could always… stay with us. You know, til they’re grown. And can handle themselves.”

“Now Crowley dear, We shouldn’t get too attached to them. Besides, we hardly have the right skills.”

“Aziraphale, we raised a kid that we thought was the Anti-christ. How hard can a pair of ordinary humans be?”

Before he could reply, Aziraphale collapsed weakly onto the bed, head in his hands.

“F***, Angel! Aziraphale, Look at me!”

“I’m… I’m alright dear,” Aziraphale tried his hardest to sound reassuring, though he was praying to the almighty herself that the room would stop spinning. 

“Lying doesn’t suit you Angel, You are far from alright,” Crowley said firmly, “I told you not to over do it.”

“I know Crowley, I know.” Aziraphale sighed, sinking back into the pillow, “I’m just so Useless.”

“Hey, No, you are far from useless Aziraphale,” Crowley said, running his bony fingers through his Angel’s fluffy white curls as yellow eyes met blue, “But you’re still healing. You need to go easy on the miracles for a while longer, that’s all.” 

“I should have healed by now,” Aziraphale sighed again. 

“Angel, listen to me. Until Two weeks ago, Your corporation had been basically comatose for eighteen months. Give Yourself time for someone’s sake!”

“I’m a Principalty, Crowley, I should be stronger than this.”

“Wait, hold up, this “I’m so useless” talk isn’t coming from Gabriel, is it?” Crowley asked. He hadn’t forgotten what Hastur had said. The words “The archangel’s whore” were still ringing in his ears. They’d have to talk about it eventually. But not now. Not while Aziraphale was so tired and already upset. 

“No,” Aziraphale lied, he was on the verge of tears now. “I’m just tired of having to rely on you for everything. You’re always there Crowley, you’ve always saved me. And I always returned that with contempt. With harsh words and…”

“Angel, Angel, Angel. I never cared about any of that. I always knew you never meant it.” Crowley soothed, pressing a kiss to Aziraphale’s lips. 

“One day, I… I just want to take care of you for a change. To be the one to save you.”

“You haved saved me Aziraphale,” Crowley assured, snuggling up on the bed, his lanky body curled around his angel. 

“When, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, mentally going over every moment the two shared, “When, in 6000 years, have I ever saved you?”

“4004 BC.” Crowley replied. 

“Eden,” Aziraphale realised, “The Day we met, on the wall.”

“You did so much more than shelter me with your wing that day,” Crowley whispered, “But, We’ll talk about that in the morning. Right now, you need to get some sleep Angel.”

“Crowley, I’ve slept more in the last two weeks than I have in 6000 years.” Aziraphale didn’t want to admit that he was drained. He couldn't seem to be weak or soft. 

Crowley ran his thumb across Aziraphale’s cheek, wiping away the tears that had spilled. They stung as only something Holy could, but he didn't care. _Sleep, Angel. I’m here._

Aziraphale melted into the touch as his eyes slipped shut. Exhaustion washing over him, he snuggled into Crowley. Breathing in his demon’s scent. Crowley had always smelt like Leather, Alcohol and Cinnamon. Even long before those things were invented. It was a scent that provided the Angel with comfort and strength, even when Gabriel was at his worst and Aziraphale was at his lowest. 

Crowley meant Safety, Rescue, Love. 

Crowley meant **_Home_ **

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?


End file.
